


Death Comes to Dean Winchester

by DoctorTrekLock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode Fix-it, Episode s12e09, Gen, M/M, canon levels of destiel - Freeform, mending plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:26:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: “Billie, you gotta help us.  We’ll do anything.”Dean Winchester was not a man accustomed to begging.  But this was worse than Hell.“Please.”And Hell had broken him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place "in" 12.09 "First Blood". I took a couple canon scenes and...tweaked them.
> 
> Cross-posted on tumblr.
> 
> http://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/156436352252/death-comes-to-dean-winchester-1209-au

“Billie.”

It was a whisper in the stillness.  The last-ditch effort of a man slowly going insane.

“Dean Winchester.”

She had heard him.  In the middle of nowhere, in a locked room in the basement of a facility that didn’t exist, she had heard him whisper her name and she had appeared.

“You gotta help us.  We’ll do anything.”

Dean Winchester was not a man accustomed to begging.  But this was worse than Hell.

“Please.”

And Hell had broken him.

“Anything?”  She teased out the syllables.  “You know what I want, Winchester.  I’ve told you before.”

Dean only hesitated half a heartbeat.

“Anything.”

A beat, as she eyed him thoughtfully, contemplating her reward.

“I’m sure you know what I want most, Dean.”

“Us, dead again.  Yeah, I know.  I just can’t—I can’t—“

“ _Balance_ ,” she cut him off.  “I want _balance_ returned to the world.  It hasn’t been the same since the failed Apocalypse, and the release of the Darkness only made things worse.”

Dean was confused now.  “Isn’t that the same thing to you?  You get us out of here, we go with you, the world stops going off script.”

“I could do that,” she allowed.  “But that wouldn’t fix the worst problem, the one spiraling out of control and threatening all of Creation.”

He was completely lost.  “I thought everything was kind of spinning alright?  Lucifer’s back in the cage, the Darkness stopped trying to eat the world.  What is it?”  He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “What haven’t we fixed yet?”

He looked at her and stopped dead.  Her eyes were dark and burned with a cold fury.

“You killed Death.”

***

The stroke of midnight was met with darkness, lights flickering and dying, the engine cutting out, and the car rolling to an unexpected stop on a bridge in the middle of Colorado.

It was time.  Dean had to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat.  Now he had to say good-bye.  To Sammy, who he’d never been able to let go of, Mom, who he’d just found again, and Cas, who…who was _Cas_.

They got out of the car.  Dean vaguely registered Mom asking what was going on and Sam quietly explaining as much as he knew.  That they’d had to make a deal to get out.  That the deal was coming due.

That they were losing Dean.

His attention was focused on Castiel, who had come around the back of the car and now stood just in front of him, a little too close, making Dean think of conversations about personal space and missed opportunities.

“Dean.”  His eyes were big and blue and full of sadness and concern.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m—”  His voice cracked.  “I’m alright, Cas.  Just waiting for—”

“Me.”  Billie’s voice was low, drawing all attention immediately.  She held a long-handled scythe in one hand, the end resting on the ground.  “Winchesters,” she greeted.  “Castiel.”

In a smooth flurry of motion Cas was between her and Dean, angel blade out, stance protective, trying to shield the Winchesters.  “You can’t have them.”  The growl held a hint of the thunder that had rumbled behind every word in the Illinois barn, but it was fainter now, softened by time and humanity.

Billie merely raised an eyebrow.  “You can’t stop me.  A deal’s a deal.  And I have need of Dean Winchester.”

“You can’t have him.”  Mom had drawn her gun and was pointing it at the Reaper.  Sam stood next to her, fists clenched impotently at his sides.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  Either this goes smoothly, or I take both your boys out from under you.”  The scythe in her hand twitched.  “It’s only my generosity that has them up and walking right now anyway.”

Mom’s gun didn’t waver.  Dean felt a flutter of panic.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down.  “C’mon, Billie.  We made a deal.  Leave Sam out of it.  I’m the one you want anyway.”

“Dean.  Please tell me you didn’t make a deal with a Reaper.”  Cas’s voice was pleading, and he knew that if the angel weren’t keeping an eye on Billie he would be less than six inches away from Dean’s face, eyes pleading with him, begging him to stay, to say no, to revolt against the plan one more time.

“Sorry, Cas.”  He swallowed.  “I had to; it was worse than Hell.  I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Cas was suddenly in his face, angel blade gone, Billie forgotten, eyes wild.  “I can’t lose you, Dean.”

It took him three tries to get the words out.  “I’m sorry, Cas.  But I’ve gotta do this.  Restore balance, all that shit.  Hell, I’ve already been topside eight years longer than I should have.”  The skin around Cas’s eyes tightened.  “This was supposed to happen.”

Cas was getting desperate now.  “We’ve torn up the script before.”

“I have to do this, Cas.”  Dean’s tone was gentle.

Cas’s face crumbled and he clung to him, trembling.  Dean held the angel tightly.

Billie watched the scene dispassionately.  Mom’s face was drawn and her hands empty, gun tucked away.  Sam’s eyes were red, though both seemed resigned to the outcome.

After a long moment he grabbed Cas’s shoulders and gently separated them.  He pressed his lips to the angel’s forehead, trying to memorize the way he shivered under his hands.  “’M sorry,” he mumbled again, his eyes wet.

He pulled himself away from Cas, taking the two steps necessary to wrap his arms around his baby brother.  As they pulled out of the hug he could tell they were both crying now.  He sidestepped to hug his mother.  Hugging Mom was still a new experience, neither of them quite used to having the other there, yet.  He turned his head and gave her a quick kiss on the temple before stepping away and turning to face the Reaper.

Billie didn’t say anything, just offered him the scythe with a solemn expression.

He stepped next to it and paused, his hand an inch from the smooth wood surface.  He turned back to his family.  All three were crying now, and Dean knew his face had to be equally wet by this point.  He cleared his throat.  “Mom, Sammy…Cas.  I—“  He had to say it.  He had to.  Because these were the people who deserved to hear it, and this was his last chance to say it.  “I love you.”  His eyes lingered on Castiel’s face.

He tried to summon his trademark cocky grin.  “See you on the other side.”  Dean took the scythe from Billie.

And Death came to Dean Winchester.

***

They say if you need to summon Death and you don’t want him angry at you (and you don’t want Death angry at you, trust me), you’d better have a Led Zeppelin cassette and a slice of apple pie on hand.  Death loves pie and classic rock.

And while you figure Death must be a very busy fellow (being Death and all), he’ll sometimes kick back, drink a beer with you, and shoot the breeze about the things that go bump in the night and how to send them back to Purgatory (a place, he assures you, you never want to end up in, though he says that with a slightly wistful look, as if reflecting on a simpler time).

If you’re really lucky, Death will take the time to explain (in painstaking detail), how to fix the knocking sound your car engine makes when you push it over sixty-five miles per hour.

But sometimes, if you bring him news of the hunters named Sam and Mary Winchester or the angel named Castiel, he will thank you with all the gravitas of his station, and give you the answer to any question you ask.  And if you don’t like the answer, he’ll smile and laugh and offer you some of his pie.

Because you brought him news of his brother, his mother, and his angel, and that definitely counts for something.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, I really feel like they need to fix that whole "killing Death" nonsense. And Dean taking over the role makes sense. I mean, he's got some (a day) on-the-job training already done, he's got more experience with death than anyone who probably existed on the planet, except maybe Jesus (thanks, Gabe), and it would be a good way to keep him from mucking up anything else. I mean, you can't just stick someone like Dean Winchester in heaven and expect things to carry on as they have been.


End file.
